


Burnt

by RainySunday



Category: Reign (TV)
Genre: Angst, At least until episode 13, Bash is exiled, Bash says goodbye, Canon Compliant, F/M, Mary and Francis are married, Mary can't choose, Oneshot, Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-19
Updated: 2014-10-19
Packaged: 2018-02-21 18:34:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2478335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainySunday/pseuds/RainySunday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I could not hate you, even if I wanted to. You are burnt into my soul, and I cannot carve you out. I know you have chosen my brother. I know you have chosen a path for your life that I am not on. But just for tonight, let me be a part of your life. Let me say my goodbyes. Let me show you what could have been – and then, I will leave.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burnt

Bash stood in his room, draining the wine in his goblet faster than he should have – trying to block out that this very evening, the woman he loved had married his brother. It could have been him standing at the altar with her tonight, if she had so chosen. But she had not. She had chosen Francis.

 

He needed more wine.

 

Bash walked towards the table, and refilled his cup from the large flagon placed there earlier at his request. He was halfway through his next cupful when the door to his chambers burst open, and Francis hurtled in.

 

Bash mockingly raised his goblet to him.

 

“Ah, good evening brother. And what brings you here on such an auspicious night? Don’t you have a wife to bed?”

 

Francis raised his hand to point accusingly at him. “You have no right to speak of Mary anymore, brother. Like many things here, she is no longer yours.”

“Right, right. I forgot. She “belongs” to you now.” Bash spat, gesturing sarcastically as he spoke. “Signed and bought. Let us pray that you can control this new wife that you so insist on treating as property.”

 

Francis raised his hand as if to slap Bash, but retreated in the last second.

 

“I warn you, Sebastian, I will not tolerate this.”

 

Bash turned away from Francis for a moment and set his glass down. “Okay, then let us not play on pretense anymore. Why are you here? Come to warn me to stay away from your wife? To threaten me with _all_ manner of things you will inflict upon me should I go anywhere near her or speak to her?”

 

Francis smiled spitefully. “No, Bash, I came here to tell you that you must leave. To reach for the throne and fail - you will be punished. I will……cannot guarantee your safety here.”

 

Bash laughed. “Punished by whom? The noblemen? Do you think they would not agree with my presence here? They would, brother, if you chose to tolerate me. In time, in a very short time in fact, they would grow to accept me at court – if you chose to allow me here.”

 

Francis stepped close, and leaned down into his brother’s face. Anger danced in his eyes, making him appear manic.

 

“I don’t.”

 

Bash’s stomach sank, and his mind suddenly sobered. So this was to be it. Francis, his brother, his lifelong friend, would never look past the transgression Bash had committed for daring to love his wife.

 

“So this is your decision. To exile me.”

 

“Just a few weeks ago, that was my sentence. I was to run away and disappear. That is your fate now. I have to head south for a few days to secure some instructions with the officers of the regiment there. When I return, I want you gone.”

 

“Where do you expect me to go, brother? I cannot disappear as you were going to – I do not have the money.”

 

Francis was nearly shaking in his rage, his fists clenched.

 

“I do not care, as long as you are not here. You have betrayed me brother, and if you ever return, I shall have your head.”

 

The dauphin spun on his heel and exited the room, slamming the door behind him, leaving Bash standing there, stunned into silence.

 

 

 

******************************

 

 

 

His brother wanted him to disappear – fine. He would leave, but first, he had to know. Bash had to know what could have been, the life he could have had with Mary, if she had only chosen him. Chosen him instead of Francis.

 

He left his chambers for the last time, a small satchel of clothes, a few coins, and a locket of his mother’s down in the stables waiting for him. Bash didn’t look back. The corridors were dim at this late hour, only a few candelabras left lit for the guards who patrolled the halls – but Bash saw none. He walked with purpose, his riding boots hitting the flagstones with the anger and determination he felt deep inside over the sudden turn his life had taken.

 

Mary had been so close to being his. He loved her. He would have given up everything for her. Taken a crown he did not want. Loved her all her life, with no conditions. And she had thrown him aside. Slipped through his fingers, married his brother, and broken his heart.

 

Bash rounded the corner and began to ascend the steps up to the fourth floor where Mary’s rooms were. Francis was still gone, and Bash was determined to see Mary one more time before he left. As he approached the door to her chambers, he was surprised to see that it had been left unguarded. Fine. At least he would not be hindered in entering.

 

Bash pushed the door open slightly harder than he meant to. Mary was sitting on her chaise, brushing out her hair, still in her day dress. Still awake. His heartrate rose – his resolve was weakening. Could he really do this? Could he really say goodbye?

 

“Bash.”

 

She turned to face him, eyes wide, surprise on her face. Surprise, and something else.

 

“Mary.”

 

Bash took two steps into the room, and paused. He suddenly became hesitant, glancing back out into the hallway.

 

“I…. I’m sorry, I should have knocked. I can leave, if you would like…..I mean, I would like to talk…….but - I can go."

 

“No!” Mary stood, setting down her brush. “I mean, please. Come in.” She smiled sadly. “It’s good to see you Bash.”

 

Bash returned the smile. He closed the door, but remained near the threshold. Mary walked towards him slowly. Bash watched her expression change as she looked him up and down, taking in his riding clothes.

 

“Are you leaving?” “Well, there is apparently no room for me at court anymore. I thought I would use the opportunity to try my fate elsewhere.” Bash shook a little as he tried to keep his voice steady. He coughed, and schooled his features.

 

Mary’s face fell. “Francis did this.” It wasn’t a question.

 

It was no use. “He cannot bear the sight of me, Mary. I have no choice.” Bash was hoping Mary would not need to know of his exile, which was ludicrous. She lived at court – the gossip of this would spread like wildfire upon his departure.

 

“Bash, I…… I’m sorry.”

 

He looked at her pointedly, pain in his expression. “You chose him, Mary. You love him.”

 

Tears began to well in her eyes. “Why are you here, Bash? Please, do not punish me, I am doing that enough to myself.”

 

“You still chose him, Mary.”

 

“I know.”

 

There was so much grief in her voice.

 

“Was I not enough?” Bash was almost whispering now.

 

Mary didn’t answer. She just continued to stand there, not three feet from him, tears rolling down her face.

 

Damn it all to hell. Damn this whole castle, and everyone who lived here. He didn’t care if they strung him up for treason. Bash rushed forward, grasped Mary by the cheeks, and drew her into a hard kiss. She jumped at first, keeping her mouth taut. Bash reached around and placed a hand at the small of her back, bringing her more to his level. One kiss, and then he would leave.

 

What he did not expect was Mary’s hand in his hair.

 

She began to respond beneath him, and he drew her closer. Her perfume wafted towards him, and Bash almost broke. But no, she was kissing him back. He could not think. He needed to think.

 

When he withdrew slightly, Mary’s eyes opened in confusion and shock. She drew back her hand as if she had been burnt.

 

“You do love me.” Bash felt as if he were drowning.

 

“Bash, it’s too late.”

 

He stepped forward, and caressed the side of her face. Mary’s breath hitched, but she looked him in the eye. He allowed himself to sink in those beautiful eyes, and suddenly found his ground. He may never see her again, but there was tonight. Tonight, Francis was not here. Tonight, he had Mary.

 

“Mary, I’ve been banned from court by my brother for daring to love you. I am leaving tonight, and I fear I will never see you again. But I cannot leave without making you aware of how I feel towards you – even now, even when you have cast me aside and chosen my brother. I cannot hate you, not even now.”

 

Bash reached up and stroked Mary’s hair with his other hand, and then cupped her cheeks gently. She continued to gaze up at him, her eyes betraying her undecisiveness.

 

“I could not hate you, even if I wanted to. You are burnt into my soul, and I cannot carve you out. I know you have chosen my brother. I know you have chosen a path for your life that I am not on. But just for tonight, let me be a part of your life. Let me say my goodbyes. Let me show you what could have been – and then, I will leave.”

 

He brought a hand down to Mary’s waist, drawing circles there with his thumb. As he closed the last of the gap between him, he leaned to her neck and pressed a gentle kiss to her skin.

 

“Say the words, Mary, and I will leave. But if you do love me, even a little, allow me to say my goodbyes.”

 

“Bash….”

 

This time it was Mary who drew him in for a kiss. It started out timid, but slowly the passion grew, and their urgency mounted. Her hands ran through his hair, down his back, stopped at his waist, and went back to his hair. Bash's heart began to beat faster, and he couldn’t breathe.

 

He grasped her waist, and lifted her up in his arms. Their gaze met, fire dancing back and forth before setting them both ablaze. When Bash returned her feet to the floor, Mary began tearing at the buckles of his jacket, while still trying to kiss every inch of his face that she could reach.

 

Bash felt her breath, fast and hot on his neck, as he helped her shirk the jacked from his shoulders. It slid to the floor, and he kicked it aside. Mary began tugging him towards her again with one hand, as she attempted to undo the seed buttons at the back of her dress. Bash set a hand over her own and stilled them.

 

“Mary, are you sure?”

 

She looked at him, sure and strong, with more love in her eyes than Bash dared to believe was possible.

 

“I may be married – but tonight, let us pretend things are different. If I had said yes to you… “

 

“Then I would be yours. And you mine.”

 

“Yes. Precisely. I know you said I have chosen another, but please. For tonight. Show me what would have been if our path lay together.”

 

Bash breathed in deeply, barely daring to believe his ears. His breath words caught in his throat for a moment, but he leaned to Mary once more.

 

“Turn around.” His voice growled feverishly.

 

Mary turned her body, but strained her neck to still keep her eyes in his direction. Her breast heaved.

 

Bash slowly undid the buttons at the back of her dress, sweeping her soft hair out of the way, working slowly until the stiff embroidered material fell away from her body and settled to the floor, leaving her in her satin shift and corset. Mary turned again, and took his face in her own, tracing her finger along his upper lip. Bash felt his heart surge.

 

 

 

************************************

He had seen her undress before, what felt like a lifetime ago as they had hidden away in that godforsaken inn trying to escape the guards as he and Mary had fled from court together. That night when they had jumped from a cliff together, when she had placed her life in his hands, trusting that he would keep her safe and deliver her home to Scotland.

 

She was in his hands again, this time in his arms as well. And she wanted to be there.

 

“Mary, you are so beautiful.”

 

She smiled up at him, radiating with genuine happiness, but with the remnant of tears still in her eyes. Bash reached up and wiped them clean. He then kicked off his boots, as Mary began to lift the hem of his shirt. Bash sucked in air as her fingers gently ghosted over his skin, and let his eyes drift closed for a moment. He complied, and allowed her to lift the garment over his head, before he turned his attentions back to her.

 

Mary’s chest was heaving. She grabbed him suddenly by the waist, and pulled them backwards until they were at the edge of the bed, kissing his neck all the while. Bash began working at the laces of her corset. Mary grabbed his head, and brought it down to her neck again, breathing audibly and gasping as he grazed his teeth along her skin, scratching the underside of her chin with his stubble.

 

“Oh Bash…..”

 

The corset finally came loose enough to unhook, and it was promptly removed and dropped to the floor to join the other discarded garments. Bash ran one hand up Mary’s leg. She responded by bending her knee, and hooking it around Bash’s waist, as he lifted her up once again, this time to deposit her on the bed behind them.

 

They scooted backwards, both breathing heavily.

 

Mary looked up at Bash with heat in her gaze. “Tell me what you would say to me if I was yours.”

 

Bash leaned down to rest some of his weight onto Mary, grinding subtly into her as he propped up his torso on one elbow, caressing her face with his free hand.

 

“If you were mine, I would tell you that I love you. I would tell you that for all your days, no matter what the future brought, that I would cherish you and put you first. I would tell you that the stars themselves could go out, and I would barely notice, for I would be too focused on the beauty of your smile.”

 

Mary smiled up at him, and began to undo his belt.

 

“I would wake you every morning with sweet kisses, and tell you that there was nothing else more important to me in the world than you. And I would be there every night to hold you in my arms and tell you that you were more precious to me than a thousand kingdoms.”

 

Bash ground into her slowly again, causing Mary to gasp, but she did not move her gaze away from his face. Bash continued, and began sliding the neckline of Mary’s slip down on one of her shoulders so that he could stroke her collarbone.

 

“I would be by your side every day, seeking your council, listening to you, putting your opinion first. I would cherish you as we grew older together, and make love to you with all my being. If God blessed us with children, I would help you raise them as a loving and devoted father, and delight in them not because they were my bloodline, but because they would be ours, and a testament of our love. I would not be your king, but you would be my queen.”

 

As Bash kissed Mary between sentences, his pants began to slide down with the absence of his belt. Bash hitched up Mary’s slip to pull it over her head. Mary wriggled underneath him to remove her undergarments.

 

“I would allow no harm to come to you. And I would love you. I would love you with all of my heart, and all of my soul, for all of my days.”

 

Mary lay there on the bed as Bash lay propped over him, and both realized that there were no more clothes left to shed.

 

Bashed paused.

 

“I love you, Mary.”

 

She cupped his cheek again. “Then show me.” She gazed at him, but this time with a challenge in her eye.

 

Bash moved lower on her body, and began tracing his finger in patterns up her thigh. He kissed her at intervals, moving closer and closer to her core. Right before he reached her center, he gazed up at her.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Oh _God_ Bash, yes!” Mary leaned her head back, rolling her eyes.

 

Bash didn’t need to ask again. He kissed her again, but this time worshipping her with his tongue in a way he had never been allowed to before. Mary moaned under him, and Bash coaxed her knees to bend.

 

“You will be more comfortable if you don’t lock your knees, dear.” He smiled, and continued his work. While his mouth wrote poems to her skin, his fingers sketched up and down her stomach, Mary’s breath hitching as she grasped at the blankets below her. Bash lowered one hand, and began to gently caress her right under his mouth.

 

Mary moaned. After a few minutes, she grasped at his head.

 

“Bash, come here.” Her voice was husky with passion.

 

Bash slid up her body, feeling her softness and warmth with his own, until he was above her once more, leaning on one arm. Mary grasped his body with her hands, and pulled him into a kiss – slow, but deep. She arched into him, and Bash felt himself shudder with contentment. This is how things should be. This just felt so right.

 

Mary suddenly rolled them over, and she straddled his torso as she gifted kisses to his neck and face. Bash brought his hands up to caress her breasts, and felt her sigh.

 

“Make love to me, Bash. Make this what our wedding night could have been.”

 

Mary looked down at him, her dark hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders. Her lips were beginning to redden from kissing, and her neck had soft marks from his teeth. But it was her eyes, those deep brown pools that caught Bash and pinned him there like a hare in a trap. Those beautiful eyes, which he longingly fixed with his own, and swore that he could reach straight into Mary’s soul.

 

He flipped them back over, and kneeled over her.

 

“I could never say no to you, Mary.”

 

Bash leaned down and lined up their bodies, marveling once more at how she felt in his arms. Mary grasped at his back with urgency, and Bash aligned himself to her center.

 

“I will be gentle.” He assured.

 

“I do not want gentle. I would rather you be passionate. Please Bash, be with me fully.”

 

At that, he entered her, and Mary shouted out, digging her nails into his back. She curled her legs up to him, begging him to move. Bash complied. He could have died right then, and felt his life complete. This was treason, he knew, but couldn’t bring himself to care. He found it impossible to feel guilt for something that felt so right.

 

He began to rock himself against her, Mary letting out little huffs of air every time he moved to be fully sheathed inside her body. Sweat began to bead on his upper lip. Mary’s moans slowly increased in fervor, until Bash abruptly rolled Mary into his lap, and continued his ministrations. Once seated, legs hooked around his waist, Mary leaned into his chest, arms wrapped around him gently, one hand in his hair.

 

“Oh Bash. I love you.”

 

It made his heart soar. He lowered one hand to her center again, just above where they were joined, and gently circled her with his fingers as they moved together as one. He wished this night would never end.

 

Mary’s grip grew tighter on his back, her head beginning to lean back as her breath tore in and out of her in great waves. Bash felt the tide rising in him, and he moved with increased vigor under Mary, still caressing her center with one hand whilst supporting her back with the other.

 

Suddenly, a deep groan let loose from his chest, as Mary thew her head back with a cry. She whispered out his name in between shudders, as the waves of passion rose and crashed into him with so much force it knocked him breathless. Ecstasy rolled off them, so heavy it was almost palpable.

 

When Bash could finally see straight, he looked forward to Mary, her still wrapped around him in all manners, and kissed her with such tenderness she may have been made of glass.

 

“I love you too Mary. I always will.”

 

They lay down together after, still heated. The kisses began to grow less fevered, more gentle, until they were lying in each other’s arms, drifting off to the soft moonlight coming in through the palace window.

 

 

 

************************************************

 

 

 

The next morning, Mary woke alone in her bed, the covers rumpled all around her. She felt Bash’s absence like a knife in her chest. Slowly she rose, bringing a bed sheet with her, and went to stand at the window - it lent a view of the road leading out of the castle’s north gate. Mary pondered how many hours ago it was that Bash had rode out on that very path.

 

She placed a hand on the glass. It was cold.

 

Mary wondered if she would ever shake the feeling that, in choosing Francis, she had chosen wrong.

 

 

 

 

***********************************************

**Author's Note:**

> This work has not yet been beta'ed. I don't really have anyone I know who I could ask, so if you are interested, please message me!


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